by Michael Kan
A sequel to Remember the Starfighter
The Endervar War
Book 2
Michael Kan
ISBN: 978-0-9964204-4-0
Michael Kan
www.rememberthestarfighter.com
Prologue
This is my story the death of my people.
The white-haired woman spoke these words. Not through her voice, but through her mind.
She stood on the planet, steady and quiet. Slowly, she walked into the bitter cold and then into the outskirts of the city. If she could have been seen, she might have appeared like a harmless stranger, simply passing through. But no. She was here to kill. Her steps moved along concealed.
Perhaps the white-haired woman knew nothing of the people here, or of the local language. No matter. They would all soon understand.
The story, she whispered. The phrase started off slow and sat in the air, looming in the frigid wind. Then it exploded like thunder and came pouring forth as the white-haired woman spoke louder, using her own language the language of the dead.
Nearby was the audience. There were thousands of them. Thousands of sentient souls living in a city of snow. Given their very nature, they were poised to hear and feel the woman’s story. She had moved beyond words and language to the raw emotions that coursed through her mind. No one would be deaf to it. And so no one would be spared.
She walked on through the icy street, cloaked in the faux shadows of machine tech, hearing the innocent scream. She watched as one person after another heard her tale and then fell to their knees.
The death of my people. A great and ancient empire that exists no longer.
The cries continued. The citizenry her victims convulsed and bled in their pain. Men, women, and even some of the youth would all bear it. And then they would fall. Their minds became empty as the trauma turned fatal. They died by the thousands and were left to freeze in the cold.
The white-haired woman embraced the sight. Her tale was laced with agony. It demanded vengeance. To her, no one was innocent.
This is my story. The end of everything. The end of my world.
She finished her words, enduring the fatigue. Her alien eyes wept in black. She then staggered and dropped to the icy ground; her face looked grief-stricken. It hid behind a hand, but still the tears came. They drenched her cheeks in streams of liquid ash.
Next to her was the soul-less machine. He stood by her side, counting.
Fifty. A hundred. Then thousands.
He was analyzing the surrounding death. The machine spoke no story. Spun no tale. But like the white-haired woman, he yearned for vengeance; his body was cloaked in the same fabricated shadow.
Over ninety percent of the population has been affected, he bellowed in his calculated and heartless voice. A near-complete death rate.
Hearing this, the woman focused and then pulled back. The powers of her mind receded. The death grip released.
The story has been told. The vast audience has been left silent. She scratched her face, almost in a daze. The two hands were covered in her own blackened tears. Rising from the ground, she looked at the dead city. It was now hollow. Hollow of life.
The woman felt almost the same.
Are you losing control? the machine asked.
No, she whispered, seeking to silence any doubt. She felt the freeze and then recalled the bone-chilling cries. She came away tired but content. Let them know my pain, she vowed.
The woman and the machine walked on, and the constructed shadows hid their every move. They would soon leave this world, having acquired what they wanted. But even though they had killed this remote city, there was more death to be had. The whole galaxy, and then existence itself, would feel their wrath.
Galactic Intel: Empires, Wars, and Historical Figures
The Endervars: The enemy. Devourers of sentient life. Instigators of the Great War, a millennia-old conflict that finally began to end thirty years ago. The alien invaders have since retreated from the galaxy, but their fate and true motives still remain a mystery. Many wonder if they will return.
The Alliance: An interstellar supergovernment assembled to fight the enemy and protect the free people. Hundreds of alien races have joined, along with humanity. Following the Great War, the organization continues to exist, with the goal of maintaining peace and order.
The Unity: The original overlords of the Ouryan Union, a machine empire that conspired to control the Alliance and all organic life. The old masters were exiled following their own civil war and are believed dead.
The Destroyer: Former assassin of the Unity, now a traitor and infamous figure feared by many. Current whereabouts: unknown.
The Savior: An android from the Terran home world of Earth who famously helped end the Great War.
Her name: Arendi Soldanas
Current status: Alliance Sentinel
Part 1: Phantoms in the Night
The light.
For a time, that’s all knew.
We were so prosperous. We needed nothing else.
But then we began to want more. To feel things. To imagine them.
Naïvely, we reached for them. Craved them. These new possibilities.
And so we dreamed.
Chapter 1
Her search had so far led to nothing. Only the dead remained.
Twenty thousand people she said, reading the latest report. Gone. Just like before.
The same outcome and now the same pattern. An entire population had been wiped out in a near instant. The victims dead without a shot having been fired. She scrolled through the preliminary report; the holoimages depicted body after body, motionless and still. All of them bereft of life.
Arendi Soldanas had seen enough. She closed her eyes, thumping her knuckle against the bridge’s railing. Her fears had been realized.
This is the third attack, she said. Possibly the same methods and a similar target. It has to be them.
Them for now that was all she had. No name or any identifying markers. No tangible clues pointing to their origin. The death toll, however, was rising. In the first attack, 34 had been killed. In the second, 112.
Arendi remembered the previous reports. Entire science facilities had been targeted, each one purged and destroyed. This new attack had done the same and more. An Alliance science base had been infiltrated, and the nearby civilian population had also been killed. She looked at the preliminary report and found what was left of the science base. The images displayed a smoldering crater; the building had been blown apart by a high-energy charge. Other than that, the details were scant.
The Alliance has elevated the matter to priority one and is requesting your assistance.
Arendi nodded and looked at her subordinate. Sitting at the bridge’s main command console was Ensign Justice. Minutes earlier the young officer had alerted Arendi to the attack.
Shall I lay in a course? the ensign asked, taking over the vessel’s navigation controls. The planet Remnick V is only two days away at top speed.
Yes, Arendi replied. Do it. I hope we’ll find some clues this time.
The vessel’s engines began to energize. Soon they’d jump into hyperspace, traveling at faster-than-light speeds to reach their destination. As the ship shot into space, Arendi looked again at the report. So many dead, she whispered. Why?
Inevitably more would die, she feared. Arendi needed answers.
***
They could hear the crunch beneath their feet. The snow was dense and building. It had been that way since they arrived on this world of ice. The frost was in the air, and it coated everything i
n sight. Arendi walked on, her feet stamping through the alien blue powder. She exhaled cold vapor. The temperature was forty degrees below zero. Ensign Justice followed not far behind.
We’re here, Arendi said, examining the view before her.
She had seen it before a smoldering science base blown to pieces. Only now it was covered in snow. The wind had fanned away the smoke. Overhead, she could see the drones she had deployed. The spherical machines were no larger than a clenched fist and floated in the air, stopping to scan every piece of the obliterated facility. The local Remnick authority had also examined the remnants after the attack two days ago. Their preliminary report had since been updated. The high-energy charge that destroyed the base had been declared a fusion blast, most likely from a bomb detonation. It had vaporized the facility, leaving a large crater and only a few shards of its shell-like wall intact.
Arendi accessed the scans from her drones. The data appeared before her eyes and flowed into her mind. Not a trace, she said, radioing into her communication link. All members of the science base are presumed dead.
Looking at the remains, Arendi compared the view against an older image that showed the base before it’s unfortunate demise. The image revealed a large hexagonal facility spanning a mile and radiating neon light. Alliance databanks listed the base’s diverse staff over a hundred in number. Some were native to the planet, but many others were from foreign worlds. The topics studied included dimensional physics, along with faster-than-light technologies.
Clearly the attackers had seen some value in their work. Why else would they have come? This marked the third time an advanced Alliance research base had been infiltrated. All three attacks had occurred within the last two months. Arendi looked on at the bombed-out base, wondering. Had the attackers accomplished what they wanted, or was this just beginning?
What were you after? Arendi solemnly asked.
The snow continued to fall. The blue-and-white flecks clung to her combat jacket and the hood over her hair. Arendi brushed off the snow. She was about to step closer to the blast site, hoping to find some elusive clue. But then she heard it. A muffled grunt came over the comm-link, followed by a tumble. She turned and found the source of the sound. Ensign Justice had apparently stumbled and fallen to the ground.
Arendi doubled back in the snow. Are you all right? she asked through her comm.
The ensign shook her helmeted head, embarrassed. Unlike Arendi, she was wearing a sealed environmental suit that breathed oxygen and heat into her body. The young officer sat upright on her rear, surrounded by powdered ice. She wiped the snow from her glass visor.
Arendi, the ensign said. She pointed, appearing alarmed. Look.
They both stared down at the snow, next to the ensign’s feet. A body was buried underneath; it was why she had tripped.
Scanning, Arendi said, activating the sensors on her wrist. She ran toward the body, kneeling down at the figure’s tendril-like legs and feet. It was a Nella-D’vare. A native of this planet. And among the twenty thousand who had been killed.
Dead, Arendi said, not surprised. The normally blue fleshy body had turned black. The blood and skin had frozen. The vibrant petals along its abdomen had shriveled and dried.
The ensign emerged behind Arendi. The cause? Was it from the explosion at the base? she asked.
No, Arendi said reading the scans. The same as all the others. Severe cerebral hemorrhaging, likely brought on by mental shock and intense pain.
The ensign looked closer, and she could see that the ice around the dead body was also stained black. She nervously rubbed her gloved hands together, unsettled.
Death by telepathy, the ensign said. Could it be?
Arendi remained still, not quite ready to draw that conclusion. Examining the body, she found no trace of nanomachines or a bioagent at work. Nothing to suggest that the body was physically infected in any way.
Cause of death: unknown, read the scan.
If so, this is rare, Arendi said. Maybe unprecedented.
It matches with the bodies found in the previous attacks, the ensign noted. And the survivors, the visions they saw
I know. I fear you’re right.
The survivors, she thought. This time, there were some.
The local authority had been conducting the interviews and collecting the eyewitness reports. All those who were found alive were civilians living in the nearby city. Unfortunately, none could offer anything substantial or even explain what had happened. They only mentioned a terrible vision, followed by a bout of crucifying pain.
Tapping into her comm-link, Arendi rose.
I’ll signal the Remnick authority. Looks like they missed a body. Let’s hope it can be revived.
Shall I continue?
No, Arendi said, staring at the destroyed facility. No need.
She was desperate for clues. That’s why she was here, out in the cold, trying to find something where there was nothing.
Arendi glanced at the ensign, looking at her environmental suit. The snow was accumulating over the fabric; the boots and gloves were caked in frost.
Head back to the ship, Arendi ordered. Inform the Alliance what we’ve found. That everything is consistent with the previous attacks. I’ll stay here with the body.
Understood.
As the ensign left, Arendi stood in the snow, waiting and thinking. The ice was everywhere, and, to an observer, Arendi would have looked out of place. Some might even have assumed that she was in danger or stranded: here was a young human woman, besieged by the extreme cold. Her android systems, however, nullified the environmental sensation. She had no need to breathe, eat, or sleep. In essence, she was an AI, a machine that could do without such things.
Nonetheless, Arendi chose to feel to feel what was important.
The cold came into her mind, and chilled air wafted from her lips as her machine system simulated both a heartbeat and a steady breath.
These attacks, she thought, all three of them had been carried out in ways that defied plausibility. The perpetrators had been able to penetrate and annihilate facilities believed to be secure.
The attackers’ killing methods were mysterious. So was the way they moved. In every instance, no ship had been seen entering or leaving the vicinity. In this case, the orbital security perimeter had detected nothing significant flying in or out. It all suggested that new technology was in play. Something Arendi and the rest of the Alliance had perhaps never seen before. Something they could not guard against.
Her gaze fell back to the body in the snow. An attack via telepathy, she said, disturbed. If the ensign was right, all organic life was potentially at risk.
***
Well, we’ve found something.
Arendi heard the message. The alert appeared in her thoughts. She activated her body’s physical systems and left her quarters. Entering the ship’s bridge, she spotted Ensign Justice, once again wearing her officer’s uniform and standing at the command console. The young woman was busy, interfacing with both the ship’s main view screen and a separate holofeed at her side.
I think this is it, the ensign said more confidently. What we’ve been looking for.
It had been three hours since they had left the surface. Since then, Arendi had been on her ship, examining the research records from the base. Much of it had been stored off-site, in virtual repositories located across the system. Clearance had finally been granted, but Arendi would need more time to analyze and understand the records.
As for Ensign Justice, she had been tasked with salvaging the surveillance footage.
So they’re intact? Arendi asked.
Badly damaged, but yes.
The files had originally resided within the facility’s structural foundation, in a secure database that monitored and stored all surveillance activity on the premises. Under more normal circumstances, the database would have been vaporized in the fusion blast. Fortunately, the science staff had foll
owed the new security directives, and force fields had been deployed once intrusion was detected, blunting the impact. Two days later, the local Remnick authority managed to find the battered database, still buried deep within the rubble.
I’ve been looking over the bits of readable data, the ensign explained. And I reprocessed it, to produce this.
Arendi eyed the main view screen, curious. She immediately noticed the location and time indicators attached to the images.
This is inside the base, Arendi said. Right as it happened.
The partially scrambled pictures showed hallway after hallway, each doorway slammed shut, the layers of force fields in place; the defense drones had activated and were ready to fire. Arendi watched as all of it came undone. One explosion and then another, each forcing a breach. Smoke, sparks, and plasma beams sizzled across the images as the surveillance footage started to cut out.
As we suspected, they’re using a cloaking field to mask their movements, the ensign said.
She pointed to the evidence. The visual distortions and incongruities briefly appeared throughout the pictures telltale signs that the attackers were bending the light around them and hiding their true presence.
But that’s not all, the ensign said. I looked closer and noticed this. Our first glimpse.
It was a clear image, captured just as the attackers sought to cross a security field.
It only lasts half a second. But the cloaking field is disrupted right here.
The visual distortions had become a reflective silhouette of a large apparition that seemed to be moving and walking. Then it lifted. The illusion briefly scattered to the air.
Arendi walked closer to the view screen, fixating on the image. The veil of mystery had begun to fall. It was not what she expected. Walking through the hallway was a humanoid. The facial features were feminine, the hair silver and white. The eyes were dark and shrouded in black. The figure was partially masked by her environmental gear, but the scans from the data were sketching out the probable physical appearance.
Is this a woman? she asked.